


“I Wish There was a War”

by Hiddenwriter, kaijukian



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers, Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cannon Divergent, Corruption, Decepticon uprising, Functionist Government, I wish there was a war-no you don’t, Learning to Grow, Multi, Prewar Cybertron, Revolution, assholes being assholes, just a tad, pssstttMegs And Op are in later chapters, they are all fools, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-02-04 12:17:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18604369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiddenwriter/pseuds/Hiddenwriter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaijukian/pseuds/kaijukian
Summary: We’ve got questionsWhat about the bots in between the social classes at the start of it all? What about functionism affecting beastformers and outliers and bots with disabilities?Time to find out in the story of Two Senate Staff members and how they realize that the world is changing, maybe they should too.





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This is a basic draft and run through of a story premise! I guess tell me if y’all like it???

Airlocks tires screeched and burned as he landed on an airstrip owned by A Senator by the name of Proteus. He Had been assigned to the Senators Arial security since a position suddenly opened up. Apparently, the senators former Head of Security had vanished without a trace. He looked up at the building ahead. The Senators Home and HQ for his campaign and where he held meeting, banquets, you name it.

“Geez talk about over the top.”

Even His tinted, top of the line sun glare visor, couldn’t help shield him against how fuckin bedazzled this guys home was. Honestly, compensating much?  
He started to make the walk-

//More of a damned trek//

-through the crystal gardens and paths to the building. He could see his reflection in the polished doors as he finally got to the front door. Two Bruisers standing opposite sides of it.

“Yo I’m here to-“

“Name and reason you’re here.”

The huge mech that spoke stepped forwards. His voice sounded like gravel shaken in a back full of cotton. And this guy OBVIOUSLY was expecting the flier to stumble back.  
Airlock stood his ground defiantly. Like an idiot.

“Wow, dude, at least buy me dinner first. If you let me speak you’d know I’m-“

“Airlock of Corpus Aralis!!”

A Brightly painted and decorated mech shoved open the polished doors to his home dramatically, stepping forwards and waving away the two bruisers with a fluid hand.

“I See you decided to Take the job offer!”

He put his elbow on Airlocks shoulder strut, leaning into it Generously.

“I was nearly worried the disappearance of my last Air Guard would’ve deterred any possible new staff.”

He clapped his servos together and smiling wide at the Flier.

“Yet here you are! On my very doorstep!”

Airlock straightened up and puffed up with pride at the comments. Servos at his sides as he nodded to the Senator.

“It’s an honor to Work for you sir.”

“Isn’t it though?”

The charming mech put a servo daintily on his chest, looking wistfully away.

“It’s a shame I can only bless so many with my presence...”

“I’m sure it is-“

”Oh, how rude of me!”

Proteus grabbed Airlocks servos and dragged him into the home. Spinning around with his arms open wide as he released the mech from his grip.

“I always forget to invite Bots in! I get so lost chattering away like an archival bot sometimes!”

Airlock gaped at the high ceiling, crystal decor, and overly lavish Furniture. Utterly in awe of the fact he could see at least 1.3 million shanix worth of it.

“I’ll give you the tour! I have to make a decision on my next head of Security by Tonight.”

As if just to contradict himself, he called upon a random bot to give him said tour.

"Have fun!" He called and was immedietly off to attend other such matters. It seemed the senator couldn't be bothered with leading around lower rank mechs.

The guide continued to show Airlock around the extravagant building. Pointing out the main quarters, meeting rooms, wash racks, refueling stations in the kitchens, and the basic necessities that would’ve been hard to find without their help. They eventually led him to the Senator's quarters. As if he had been expecting them, the doors were set on motion sensor, and much to the guide's shock, they parted upon their approach. The tour guide bowed in shame, but Airlock only stared inside.

“And this is my bode!”

From behind them, Proteus appeared. He winked playfully at Airlock as he lead him through the door. Smirking a bit more that what he seemed to always do.

“Wow Sir....”

The room looked like it was the most lavish and bedazzled place on Cybertron. Noting the large expansive windows and balcony he couldn’t help but feel smaller compared to it all.

“I see why you wanted me to see this...”

”Oh Of Course!”*

The senator spun around to look out the Floor to ceiling windows.

“As part of my Air Security, this is a place you patrol regularly. Feel free to land on the balcony if you ever require rest during your rounds. We want you at top performance, however it is not an excuse to be lazy. It is important that you keep me safe after all~”

Airlock stiffened to attention

“Very much so, sir.”

“Have you been shown your room yet?” Airlock shook his head.

Proteus slowly walked past Airlock. One of his servos drifting over to the surface of his wing and dragging along from middle to tip.

“Follow me." He cooed and waved the guard away. "That will be all."

Airlock nodded and followed the senator. He decided to ignore the brush of his wing.

“So you have to make a decision on a new head of Security? Must be stressful sir.”

“Mm, no I think I've decided.” Proteus hummed thoughtfully. "I'll have Broadcast break the news to our former HOS."

Proteus glances over his shoulder at Airlock, and stops before a door.

“I read your resume Airlock. I’m impressed, and that is no easy feat. It’s really extraordinary such a shining star such as yourself came from a backwoods town like Corpus Aralis.”

He smiled at Airlock.

“I wouldn’t call myself a shinning star sir-“

“-Ah! Broadcast! Hold that thought, Airlock.”

The senator trotted over to smaller mech carrying a few datapads while looking at a holovid floating in front of him. He snapped his fingers lightly to get the minicon's attention.

“Broadcast, do you mind pulling Airlock's file for me?”

“Oh-Uh- I’m sure I can pull it up for you Sir!”

The mechs shoulders hitched up a bit as he looked through a datapad for Airlocks file

Airlock watched from where he stood as Proteus stood slightly bent over the smaller mech. Chattering away quietly. And smiling as he got the other mech to hold back a small laugh.

“Went ‘head n’ moved your Meetin’ ta tomorrow, jus like you asked.”

He handed Proteus a data pad and looked over at Airlock with an amused smile.

“See that one is ‘ready sportin' the uniform.”

Proteus laughed, a Bouncy uplifting sound that reminded airlock of a teacher he had had once as a sparkling.

“Oh Broadcast, I appreciate you thinking I would’ve done that ahead of time, but no. Those are his naturally picked colors. Though I do appreciate the  
thought. Thank you VERY much for this Broadcast dear.”

The senator spun on a heel and trotted back over to Airlock, swiping through the data pad and looking down at the glowing screen as he read it aloud.

“Now lets see here: top of your class in aerial encounters and maneuvering, survived a collision with a rouge training drone-“

He paused momentarily while swiping through files and pictures.

“Oh my-“

The mech put a servo to his mouth as a sultry grin broke across his features.

“-You were awarded ‘Daredevil’ of the year at the academy.”

 

He looked up at Airlock as the minibot named Broadcast, Who had apparently walked over out of curiosity, peered at the file in Proteus’s servos. He wore a visor but Airlock could still tell his optic ridges were raised. Obviously both mechs were highly aware of what that title fully meant.

“I must say, that’s quite the resume for such a low start like yourself. To be the first in, oh dear, how many millennium Broadcast darling?”

“I believe it’s at least been over 37 Sir.”

“Yes! Thirty-seven Millennium since that title was given to someone. It’s quite the feat Airlock, most elite guard bots don’t ever reach that in their lifetime. Much less so young.”

Airlock was silent. A little put off by how much The Senator knew about him. Granted, it was a public file, he just didn’t realize it was THAT public.

“Well I’ve always been the kind of bot that hears someone say I can’t do something, and instantly tries to do it.”

Proteus chuckled, opening the door to Airlocks room as the minibot was sent off with a wave of the Mechs servo.

“I appreciate that, just remember-“

He smiled as airlock passed by him. A servo reaches out a grabbed one of his wings. His smile a tad unsettling now as it held on enough to stop Airlock in his tracks.

“-when _I_ tell you something cannot be done, I mean it.”

Airlock tried to shrug off the uneasy feeling in his tanks. It was just nerves no doubt. But he stood there. Waiting for the Senator to move first. Not wanting to risk the worst. Wings were tough but delicate up close. One wrong move could literally put a flier out for weeks.

Proteus grinned in satisfaction, letting go of his wing.

“Welcome to the staff~”

Proteus smirked as the door closed behind him, looking at the glowing datapad in his servo.

“I’m sure you’ll serve me well as my new head of Security, Airlock.”

His blue optics darkened as he looked through the file at the various pictures he’d procured. Looking over sleek armor and those Legs-Primus- the things he wanted to see those legs do.

“Patience yields rewards.”

The senator headed to his room.

// I have some planning to do.//


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Airlock gets accustomed to his new workplace with the help of an ornery minicon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Airlock is an asshole, Broadcast is an asshole, everyone is an asshole  
> \- elix

Airlock jolted up from his berth with a confused yelp, tumbling off in a flurry of wings and sheets as beams of sunlight streamed into his room. He squinted, sitting up and shielding his eyes from the bright morning light. He peered towards the now open curtains. Wings from whoever had done him the great disservice of waking him up cast a long shadow on the floor.   
“G’morning there.” The mystery bastard called and tugged the blinds open further, eliciting a groan from the once peacefully sleeping flyer.

"Alright, who the hell decided to wake me up this damn early?" Airlock blinked, adjusting his optics to the light and recognizing Broadcast, the minicon from before. The glorified secretary’s two sets of wings covered most of him as he faced away from Airlock, fiddling with the curtain lock. Airlock snorted. "I didn't know your function was 'alarm clock'." 

Broadcast replied with a flat hum, turning around. The speaker on his chest was painted over with the symbol of the Senate. He walked over to the mech on the floor and nudged him with his pede. 

"C'mon now, you're expected to be up right about..." The minicon checked his chronometer. "Now.”

“Well, I’m up now, aren’t I?” Airlock grumbled, shifting away and pulling the covers back over his head. Clearly, he had no intention of getting up anytime soon.

“Ah-ah, none of that.” Broadcast tutted, picking up the blanket and yanking it off the bot it was tangled up with. Airlock flopped gracelessly onto his face. He peeled his faceplate from the floor to see the minicon folding his sheet neatly on the berth. He groaned as he got up and rubbed his chin.

“Are you this nice to all the new recruits?” Airlock chortled dryly before reaching up onto the nightstand for his visor. He couldn’t help but feel a stare on him. “Something wrong?”

The minicon looked away quickly, but the flyer knew what he’d been staring at. Beneath a visor he refused to sleep with on, his optics were a violent shade of red-violet similar to that of spilled energon. It looked rather gruesome, as if some infection had gone long untreated. Perhaps it was infection, perhaps injury, maybe it was a cruel joke from his makers, but it wasn’t like anybody asked. They simply stared and looked away if they got lucky enough to see him visorless. Though, to be fair, the reason behind the disfigured face beneath his masks were a secret he’d take to his grave.

“...Jus’ get up.” Broadcast huffed and made haste out of the room, leaving the flyer grinning under his faceplace. If he could use his scars for one thing, it was intimidating snobby mechs like him.

  
  


Walking quickly down the hall, Broadcast scanned the profile projected before him. He skimmed staff profiles until he found the novel masked face, and opened Airlock’s medical records. He stopped in his tracks.

“That can’t be.” He muttered. Nothing. There were no records of any illness or major injury. Had he been seeing things? He closed the hologram of the blue and gold jet as he heard chipper steps approach behind him. 

“Morning, bossy boots!” Airock chirped as he strutted up and finger gunned at him. Broadcast grimaced. He’d have to update that medical profile later. Now, he had to deal with the new guy himself.

“Follow me,” He began to walk quickly down the hall. “You were expected in the hangar two minutes ago.”

“Well, I guess I’m gonna be fashionably late, then.” Airlock laughed shamelessly. This irked the hell out of Broadcast.   
“There is nothing ‘fashionable’ about a lack of punctuality.” He sniffed and walked further up ahead. 

The hangar was a social buzz. Several mechs stood in groups chatting.

“Now, here you can socialize freely with those in your vocation, you-”

“WHADDUP GLITCHES! I’m Airlock!” The newcomer crowed. Broadcast, and many others, could only stare dumbstruck as he stood and waited for somebody to answer. The secondhand embarrassment socked the spectating minicon in the nose and he was sent reeling at the groundbreaking social awkwardness. From the way they went back to their conversations, albeit more hushed, and the bitter flash of biolights, anyone who could read a room could see that Airlock wasn’t too well liked.

“Uh, did I do something wrong?” Airlock piped up. He recoiled a bit as a larger mech, Fuselage, stormed over towards him. Oh, this couldn’t be good. Fuselage was not only at the top of the pecking order, but the helicopter was an uptight prick. No doubt he’d take Airlock’s gauche behavior as disrespect. Broadcast felt a pang of sympathy.

  
  


“You’re Airlock, huh? You think you can just come in here like you’re some kinda hotshot, Airlock?” He growled. “Well, think again.”

“Hey, chief, I honestly got no clue-”

“Keep to yourself, daredevil. We don’t like rung-jumpers here.”

Airlock was left bewildered as the mech trod back to his peers, rotors swinging from his back. He  frowned and stood alone awkwardly. He glanced over at Broadcast, but the minicon was acting as if he’d died.

“Turbo, Pinwheel, you’re on first rounds.” The helicopter began to bark orders at the other flyers. “Tagline, Locklight and I will be flying to do mission overviews on the next campaign site. The rest of you have basic maintenance and training courses today. Let’s get moving bots!” 

Airlock trotted up to him.

“What can I-”   
“YOU can stay out of our way.” The mech snapped, his rotors flaring up. “Don’t touch anything in our hangar. Go… Go count windows or something!”

Airlock was once again left standing awkwardly in the hangar, more confused than ever. What was this guy’s damage? 

The answer came with Proteus sauntering up to him.

“Good morning Airlock,” Proteus drawled in a singsong voice. He smiled, but his eyes narrowed as he looked him up and down. “Why aren’t you with the others?”

“I don’t… think they like me?” Airlock rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know why, though. They said something about um… ‘peg jumping’?”

“Oh, I’m afraid that’s my fault.” Proteus shook his head, beckoning him to follow. “I passed over Fuselage as head of security for you instead. I liked your background and experience more than his; I assume he isn’t taking it very well, hm?” 

Airlock was shocked at how casually the senator had told him that he fired his former HOS for him. He couldn’t help but feel a little targeted now, trailing behind the senator through the hangar.   
“Y-yeah, I can’t blame him, I just took his job! What’s gonna happen to him?” Airlock furrowed his brows beneath his visor. 

“Unimportant.” Proteus gave a lofty laugh. Airlock couldn’t help but feel as though the senator was a tad bit condescending.

“It's not your fault that Fuselage was underqualified.” Broadcast piped up as he opened the hangar door for Proteus. “He let a riot brew right under his nose during the last speech.”

“Precisely!” The senator clasped his hands together, nodding sagely. He stepped through the door and shot a glare at Broadcast. “Now, if you two are quite finished dawdling, Airlock needs to be oriented, and I have a repaint appointment.”

“Yes sir.” The small jet bowed his head and beckoned Airlock to follow. 

  
  


Broadcast glanced at the hallway doors be heaved open by the twin doormechs. They were deaf for… privacy reasons. The only person he had to worry about being out of earshot was the senator. When he was, the minicon let out a deep exvent.

“So, when do I start answering to his every beck and call?” Airlock quipped sarcastically. “Is it an overnight thing or do I have to have years of conditioning?”

Irritated, Broadcast spun to face him.

“If you want to survive around here, you’re gonna want to start immediately, understand?” He snapped, grumbling as he continued to walk. “Fuselage was the best in his business, better than you by a longshot, but he talked back to the senator and now he’s unemployed. If you don’t want to follow suit, if you want to stick around here, clam it.”

“Survive? Are you messing with me too? Cause it’s getting less and less funny.” Airlock audibly frowned. “He’s a senator, not a monster.”

Senator. Monster. Years of working this godforsaken job had made those two words interchangeable. He only scoffed and shot a glance at the new HOS as he opened the door for him into a small room.

“The higher ups didn’t say you’d be this funny. C’mon, take a seat.” Broadcast gestured to the couch before him. He positioned himself behind, back straight, posture stiff, head locked forward. Airlock only stared at him. “What are you waiting for? Sit down.”

“Higher ups- wait, who said I was funny?” Airlock muttered as he flopped onto the couch. From where he was sprawled out, he glanced up at Broadcast. “You just gonna stand there awkwardly?”

Broadcast rolled his eyes and gave him his answer in the form of projecting an informational video onto the wall before him.

“Just pay attention, won't you?” He hissed. The HOS pouted like a whelp and crossed his arms.

“Fine, whatever, bossy.” Airlock stretched and wiggled into the couch. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the seat as he watched.

“You’ll thank me later, flyboy.” Broadcast looked ahead at the video. He was sure this was all things Airlock had seen before. “The senator wears a real sweet smile, but he runs a tight ship around here. The sooner you get used to bots nippin’ at your circuits the better.”

The reel ran for many more minutes before Broadcast shut it off. 

“That’s all I need to show you. You can go do whatever, but uh, stay out of the senator’s way, don’t cause trouble, y’know.” Broadcast stretched, relaxing from his stiff posture. “If you have any questions, ask anybody else, then ask me.”

“If I’m head of security, how the hell am I supposed to stay away from my employer?” Airlock stretched over the sofa. Broadcast could hear the frustration growing in his voice? “Why do you want me to stay away from him anyways?”

“You take it up the chain’a command, that’s how. If you got somethin’ to say you tell me. I relay it to another superior or to Proteus directly if it concerns him.” Broadcast put a hand on his hip and leaned over the sofa with the other. “As to why?”

He walked around and with a finger, guided Airlock’s feet out of the way before taking a seat.

“Proteus doesn’t like to be bothered. He’s nice, but,” He bit back a grimace. Gossiping about one’s superior, especially a senator, was considered an offense. “He doesn’t see bots like us as worth fussing over.”

  
  


Airlock was taken aback. 

“Bots like us?” The way he said that unsettled him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Broadcast gave him an odd look. He couldn’t quite read it, but it almost looked like pity.

“Flyers?” He said as if it were obvious. “Proteus is extremely functionist... Did nobody really tell you?”

“Oh, right, I knew that.” Airlock lied. He was told by his employers that Proteus was the kindest, most benevolent mech in the senate. The mixed signals were rattling his processor. “I thought you meant like, mechs lower than him, for a second. Not that we aren’t!”

Airlock twiddled his thumbs, sinking into the couch bashfully.

“Sorry, I get distracted. Honestly, it helps with flying, everything becomes second nature, but conversations? Not so much.” He shrugged. 

Broadcast chuckled and gave a knowing nod.

“Good to know you serve your purpose, flyboy. But you  _ are _ on security now, so we need you on your pedes at all times. No distractions.” The minicon leaned back in his seat next to him, smiling. “Otherwise, who knows, Proteus might hang your wings up on the penthouse wall.”

For a second there, he felt genuinely scared. Is that why Proteus was staring at his wings!? Was he secretly a serial killer who hunted flyers for sport like turbofoxes? His mind’s panicked rambles were cut short by Broadcast’s hooting laughter. Airlock realized he’d had quite a reaction, and cleared his throat, composing himself. 

“What about you?” Airlock changed the subject. “You’re a flyer too, but I’ve never seen you fly.”

“Are you kidding me?” Broadcast grinned. “All I DO is fly for Proteus. I’m like, his personal messenger. Anything that ain’t important enough for him to show up, but requires him to speak, I record and fly across the damn city states to project.” 

“I’m actually really glad to be resting my thrusters right now,” Broadcast said, snuggling into the sofa and closing his eyes. “Proteus always has a job for me. You’ll probably be kept busy too, but hey, if you’re good at it he might treat you nice.”

Airlock furrowed his brow. He wasn’t some pampered pet who needed anybody’s damn approval. A notification popped up in his personal frequency, one he didn’t recognize. He was just about to open it before Broadcast spoke.

“Egh...Looks like Proteus has an impromptu speech happening today. Something addressing the uh, concerns about the rising Decepticon movement.” He pushed off the sofa, and Airlock watched him walk around and yank open the door. “Come on, let’s blast.”

  
  


“Concerns,” Airlock scoffed, following him out of the small room and down the hall. “More like a bunch of morons thinking change is a bad thing. Broadcast froze, and looked around, horrified. Luckily the hallways were empty, save for the doormechs. Still, Airlock spoke far too loud and confident for comfort.

“Airlock!” He hissed, shocked. “If anyone caught you saying that they’d- they’d, Primus, they’d-”

He shook his head, facepalming. 

“Look, you’re opening fuel lines in a sharkticon tank with talk like that. I’m gonna give you one last piece’a advice ’fore I send you off to duty.” Broadcast snarled gravely through his dentae. “DO. NOT. SAY THINGS. LIKE THAT.”

The taller flyer shrunk back, his wings drooping a bit as he nodded and gave a meek “okay”. Broadcast for a moment wondered if he had been too harsh, but decided now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Airlock really needed to learn how things worked around here.

“But, for the record,” Airlock chirped, regaining face. He walked on an imaginary tightrope in front of him, balancing as he put one foot in front of the other. “I’ve spent my whole life opening fuel lines in sharkticon tanks. I think I work best under that kind of pressure.”   
Broadcast snorted and gave a nod.   
“Uh huh.” He opened a conversation with an air coordinator, and it projected out in front of him. “Actuator, where do you want this one?”

He craned his head so the mech in the hologram could see Airlock.

“That the new guy?” Actuator squinted. “Put him by the upper east sector.”

“Got it.” The call ends, and he turns to Airlock. “You’re gonna be highflying just above the senator as he speaks. Keep those optics open and watch for any suspicious activity.”   
Airlock gave an exaggerated salute.    
“Yes sir bossy boots! Doing my job! Anything else you need? Like an energon cube? Your wish is my command!” He sneered, just barely stifling laughter. Broadcast’s eyes widened, and stiffened at the disrespect. The lack of any sort of regard for authority was incredible. He was almost impressed. Impressed, and full of a funny urge to strangle him to death. One of these days, if nobody else got to him first, he would kill him.

Broadcast only projected another conversation, and shot Airlock a smile as the signal connected to the caller.

“Good luck out there, flyboy."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two mech find themselves paired on a mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya'll ever seen a buddy cop film  
> -elix

Broadcast waited for the senator to walk onto stage, cameras flashing as the audience cheered. The people applauded, moreso out of obligation than out of actual love for the politician. You could tell if you looked closely. Frowns above clapping hands, mechs looking askance as the politician appeared, glares peppered about the crowd. 

Broadcast followed close behind the regal mech, along with another projector; both were painted freshly in the senate’s uniform color combination. Blue and gold. Alone, those colors looked grand together, but paired with the senate’s reputation, and the senate itself, the colors had the connotation of coagulated blood.

The two projectors stood at attention of opposite sides of the stage, backs straight, heels clicked together. On a signal pinged to them over comms, they projected the feed of the camerabot that ducked before Proteus.

 

“Greetings, everybody! I am so very pleased that you’re all here,” The senator began, a cheerful smile gracing his face as he looked out at the crowd. “Today I’d like to issue a proposal. Nay, a  _ promise _ .”

The audience hung onto his words.

“My promise is that of progression, it is one of compromise and benevolence.” He called out, his servos accentuated his words as he spoke. A few mechs whispered and hushed one another. “I understand that many bots are thinking forward, and the senate approves of it. But we have to ask, how seriously should we take this movement of… decepticons? We intend to see with a public consensus.”

Glances were exchanged among the crowd. Broadcast stiffened, and couldn’t help but furrow his brows. Expressions were not encouraged in his line of work. You were to project so that those not facing the senator could see the senator. You were a prop. The audience was not to even be able to detect your sentience. 

Broadcast stared at the other announcer jets hovering overhead, Proteus’ words emanating from the massive speakers on their underbellies.

“Namely, that I will grant the decepticon movement  _ formal political party status  _ if- and only if- at least 10,000 ‘decepticons’ register themselves as such.”

The audience was shocked. They ooh’d and murmured among themselves. The press exploded into questions, and the paparazzi bursted into flashing lights.

All the decepticons in the crowd knew he was lying.

 

After the speech, Proteus called Broadcast into his office. He was hunched over his desk, mouth pressed against clasped fists when Broadcast opened the door. His optics opened into blue slits as the minicon stepped inside.

“You, get in here. I have a project for you.”

“Yes sir?”

Proteus lifted his head a bit, resting his strong chin atop his servos.

“I want you to take that footage to the mines. See how the local industrials react.” He sat back in his chair. “Report it to Ratbat, and get GOOD reactions, do you hear me? Supportive ones. Stuff we can use.”

“Right away sir.” Broadcast chewed his lip. He never hesitated when Proteus gave him an assignment. But then again, Proteus had never sent him into the devil’s den.

“You’re not moving.”   
“Sorry, I’ll be on my way, but… To the mines, sir? Alone?” Broadcast wilted. He knew he shouldn’t question him, but Proteus couldn’t possibly have NOT known the danger in his request. He HAD to know the risk he was putting the minicon in. The miners hated the politician, and to send a representative alone and defenseless, he was practically asking for his minicon to come back, if he did make it back, far from unscathed.

“Yes.”

The stormy look in his eyes told Broadcast everything he needed to know, and dread seeped through him. Oh Proteus knew the mines were dangerous for senate staff, alright. He knew and he was counting on it.

“Sir, please, may I have a convoy?” Broadcast begged. Proteus gave an unsympathetic snort and rolled his eyes at the fearful bot. 

The miners would attack him; that was his plan. They’d break the little minicon and it’d all be on film. No more rights for miners, they’d say. They don’t deserve any when they’re such brutes. Only the civilized deserve freedom.

“Fine, you cowardly wretch. Take a security officer with you, I don’t care.” Proteus eyed him, growing impatient. “Just get the hell out of my sight.”

“Yes sir, thank you sir.”

He caught a disdainful comment about “disposables” under Proteus’ breath on his way out.

 

Just as Broadcast stepped out the door, he opened a projection, and swiped down the roster of aerial staff. 

Busy. Busy. Busy. Pending. Busy. Pending. Busy. Available. 

Oh, just his goddamn luck.

His search led him down to Airlock’s name. 

He sighed, selected “summon”, closed the hologram, and waited. 

  
  


Moments later, the flyer landed on the nearby balcony.

“Hey bossy boots! Need something?” Airlock smirked under his mask, but it was evident in the way he spoke as he balanced on the edge of the terrace. “Or did you just miss me?”

“I need a security guard to accompany me to mining outpost Croteus-12. Its a flight mission and… you were the only one available.” Broadcast rolled his eyes. “Its in Kaon’s district, we should get going as soon as possible.”

The two transformed and flew East. The sky was dappled in clouds, and the noon sun was beginning to retreat. 

“So, what are we doing there?” Airlock flew circles around the minicon. He realized that this was his first time seeing the little bot’s alt mode. It was a rather compact little jet, with the speaker on his chest now tucked between two thrusters on the vehicle’s underbelly.

“Data collection. We’re going to interview some miners.”   
“Oh, that’s not so bad, what did you need me for?”

“Just in case they don’t take well to us there. It shouldn’t get to that, I mean, we’re paying them, they should be pacified by that.”

Airlock’s engine stalled for a moment.   
“We’re going to bribe them!?” He squawked. “What- isn’t that, I don’t know, against the law?”

Airlock grew bored quickly of just normal flying at the pace of a minicon, and did a barrel roll.

“Why would we need to do that? They support him anyways, don’t they?” He swooped up, stalled, and dropped before catching himself and leveling out beside Broadcast. “I mean, at least they have somebody trying to represent them. That’s a good thing.” 

“Sure,” Broadcast said dismissively. “But you can’t be too safe.”

 

There was many minutes of thoughtful silence as they streamed across the sky, a trail of parted clouds slashing through the atmosphere behind them.

“So, when did you start working for Proteus?” Airlock flew up closer to Broadcast. “And where the hell are you from? You don’t talk about anything but Proteus this, job that. It’s like its the only reason you exist or something!”

Broadcast groaned, but decided to indulge him.

“I was forged in Polyhex. I moved jobs to Iacon a very long time ago, and began to work for the senate, again, a very long time ago.” If he were in root mode, he’d have rolled his eyes. “And I talk so much about the Senator because it’s what I’m supposed to do. Tha’s literally my job.”

He bit back disgust in his voice.

“Proteus uh, kinda takes focal point’a my life here.”

“Can I make a suggestion?”

Broadcast was surprised by how polite he was being. 

“Hm? Oh uh… ‘Course, go ahead.” Broadcast flew closer to hear. Airlock cleared his throat.

“ _ Make it fun!! _ ” He whooped as he transformed midair, from jet to robot back to jet again, and barrel rolled. “So  _ what _ if it’s what you’re supposed to do? Now, I know that stick in your tailpipe is in there quite comfortably, but there’s no laws against having fun on the job!”

“Whuh-hey!” Broadcast dodged out of the way of the boisterous jet, cringing at his loud voice. “You could get arrested for reckless flying! That’s a violation of penal code… penal code uh… Oh whatever.” Broadcast gave in and indulged in a barrel roll, chuckling. “Alright, alright, get it out of your system, we’re almost in Kaon.”

They landed at the shuttle bay. The place was hazy with industrial smog, and luckily this was at one of the highest points in the city. Had they been any lower, the rancid smell would have been unbearable.   
“Where are you two headin’?” The bot working the booth asked.

“Croteus-12, official business.” 

“Senate?”

“Yes.”

“Next shuttle.” The booth bot nodded. 

Broadcast thanked him, and walked over to the nearest bench. He sat down at beckoned Airlock over. 

“As good of a flyer as you are, we need to catch a shuttle. Croteus-12 is offworld.” Broadcast watched as Airlock sat down. His optics bright as he smirked under his mask at the thought that the uptight minicon admited to his flying prowess. “There’s a spacebridge that’ll take us right there, thank Primus. I think Croteus-12 is the only mining outpost that still has a space bridge nearby. Messatine got its removed, what, 12 centuries ago? 13? Whatever, you get it.”

  
  


“Oh, I know, I’ve been there before.” Airlock nodded sagely. Broadcast raised his eyebrows at this, and the other jet laughed.  “Only kidding.” 

Airlock was a lot more nervous than he’d let on. This was his first time offworld and, well, he wasn’t at all prepared for it.

“What about you, have you been there?” 

Broadcast shook his head as another shuttle took off and ascended slowly into the lightly smoggy air.

“Never had a reason to. I’m either with a senator or flying to see a senator. This might be one, if not the first time I’ve ever… Y’know, not gone to see one.” He shrugs. “I mean, one time… I used my mission to see senator Momus as an excuse to visit my old neighborhood. I don’t think that counts though, I still went to see Momus.”

Airlock grimaced as if he’d seen something atrocious.

“ _ Oh my GOD _ , Broadcast. No. Okay, no.” He shook his head, waving his servos in disgust. “By decree of me, you are no longer allowed to do only work related things with your life.”

Broadcast gave a deadpan look and rolled his eyes as the taller jet balanced on the railing beside the bench, flipping over and landing in a handstand.

“Live a little, won't you!? Life isn’t just about work, or the senate.”

“I know that.” Broadcast grunted indignantly. He was getting quite tired of this new bot treating him like he was some poor pet of Proteus’ that needed saving. He had a life outside of work, but Airlock wasn’t entitled to it.

“Work’s been the most fortunate part of my life, Airlock.” He scoffed, resting his cheek in his servo, eyeing the dirt on the bench. “Being forced to smile for a senator is still, believe it or not, a reason to smile. I can’t make you take on that mindset, but I suggest you learn to like what you have while you strive for something better, rather than just ignore that things could be worse.”

Airlock didn’t seem convinced, but he momentarily sat still, only glancing at another shuttle taking off from the station. A train passed by overhead, hissing and thundering. Rubble fell from the filthy infrastructure like water droplets.

“Besides, I’m probably the most fortunate bot there is. All I have to do is sit still, take letters, and put up with Proteus’ attitude and I get to stay fed and paid.” He stood up, adjusting his wings before replacing himself. He looked up at the sky. “That’s more than can be said for those miners.”

Above, a chime and a monotone voice sounded.

“ _ Next shuttle arriving in: five kliks. _ ”

  
  


Airlock was surprised at how disdainful Broadcast spoke about the mech he was paid to fawn over. He sat with his long legs crossed upon the rail.

“Wow, Broadcast, talk like that and someone might hear you.” He chuckled, remembering how frantically Broadcast had tried to shut him up only so long ago.

“Oh come off it, a shuttle station isn’t the senator’s hallways. I can say whatever I want here.”

Airlock hummed thoughtfully at this. He supposed that was right.

“Let me make you an offer, Broadcast.”   
“Shoot.”   
“If we survive this trip, you have to hang out with me tonight and do normal things like talking and doing stupid stuff.”

“And I thought the Dead End was hell…” Broadcast snickered under his breath. He turned to the other jet.

“That sounds like a fate worse than death.” He grinned, glancing at the shuttle’s estimated time and murmured to himself. “Hope those goddamn miners kill me.”

“Wait, are you from the Dead End?” Airlock perked up. When he heard ‘Polyhex’ earlier he assumed he was from, well, the nicer part… if there was one.

“Uh huh, shocker.” Broadcast snapped his fingers a couple of times and pointed upwards. “C’mon, time’s up.”   
As if on cue, the chime sounded again from above.

“Please ready any and all luggage, the next shuttle arrives in: one klik.”

The shuttle was a speck in the sky that gradually grew bigger, and the roar of the engines grew louder as it descended and slowly touched down. It opened, and a few bots walked out. Broadcast waved Airlock over, and the taller jet followed him inside. Broadcast looked around the empty seats. Nobody but them was going up.

“There should be minimal foot traffic on the space bridge and getting to the mines, that’s good. We can be in and out.”

“Yeah, it's getting pretty late. Most shipments are early morning or late night.” Airlock nodded as he followed the minicon. “And we just missed the afternoon traffic.”

Airlock grabbed a pole. They were used for holding on had the shuttle seats been full. He imagined a crowded shuttle as he leaned back, holding on to pole. He liked it better like this, with room to move.

“I used to fly and use the droneships and drop-off shuttles as obstacles.” He laughed as he spun, acting like an overgrown sparkling. “I don’t think I ever imagined being in one though!”

“Me neither. I think today’s been throwing a lotta less than expected things our way,” Broadcast chuckled, watching him clown about before laying down on the seats, staring at the shuttle’s ceiling. “Y’know, this is a job. We’re on a job right now but it uh, it doesn’t feel like it. It doesn’t feel like I’m working right now.”

The minicon closed his eyes and smiled.

“If I said that in front of the senator, he’d probably say somethin’ like ‘well, I don’t want you to be bored, how about you shine my badge?’ Or I don’t know, take a letter and fly it down to Stanix.”

“He really likes to keep you busy huh?” Airlock looked at him and frowned.

“Yeah, but don’t feel bad, it's what I signed up for.” Broadcast tried to shrug, but his wings were caught in the seat. He cursed as he realized he was a bit tangled. Airlock didn’t seem to notice.

“When I first saw you, I actually thought you might have been the senator’s conjunx.”   
“What?”

“Yeah, I thought, it made sense for a cute mech to be on the arm of a senator, but the way you talk about him? I’m kinda glad I was wrong.”

Broadcast’s optics snapped open. That wasn’t something he expected to hear in all the years he worked for Proteus, hell, he didn’t expect to hear that in all the years he was alive.

“Gosh uh… Thank you.” He murmured.

The speakers in the shuttle crackled to life.

“ _ Approaching spacebridge in: five kliks _ .”

“We’re almost there.” Broadcast projects a screen and flips through, skimming for interview protocol. “Tell you what, Airlock. If we do survive this unscathed, pray we don’t, I’ll take you up on that offer. Proteus and Ratbat will most likely be so caught up with this footage we’ll have free time.”

Airlock perked up.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not.” Broadcast grinned. “Hell, if you behave, I might even let Proteus know how good you were today. Maybe he’ll let you in on a little reward.”

Airlock smiled behind his mask. Showing Broadcast a good time was reward enough. But a few hours extra of downtime from Proteus wouldn’t hurt. 

He began to mentally plan what they’d do. First, he was gonna take him flying. Fun flying, not boring mission flying. Then maybe for a drink? He could show him around town! Wait, Broadcast had been here a while, he probably already knew the town… Well, he could always show him his new apartment in the senate’s palace!

Airlock’s spark jumped a bit and he stole a glance at Broadcast. The minicon and him, in his room, talking, drinking, laughing… Who knows where that would go. 

He coughed into his fist and shook the thoughts from his processor.

“I’ll behave myself, but not for a reward for me. My reward is you loosening up a bit today.” He said, and he meant it sincerely. Broadcast looked surprised. The jet could tell he wasn’t at all used to that kind of genuine kindness from another mech, especially not a coworker. His shocked expression though, quickly melted into a smile. 

“I appreciate that.” 

The shuttle speaker’s monotone voice announced their arrival to the space bridge. Airlock walked close behind the minicon. Underneath his upright exterior, he was pretty alright. 

' _I think,_ ' Airlock thought with a smile. ' _We might really get along_.'

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Government employees in a dirty pit. Parks n rec, or Broadcast and Airlock?

“Hi, do you have time for an interview?”

The foreman turned around and regarded the diminutive emissary and his bodyguard. “You two with the senate?” He eyed the winged symbol plastered across their chests. “We heard you were coming, um… let me give you the tour.”

“Please do.” The emissary’s posture straightened, his head kept level as it swiveled around, recording his surroundings. “Proceed.”

Airlock would never admit it, but Broadcast’s sudden and blatant switch of personalities ever so slightly scared him. Something about how unapologetically two-faced he was… disturbing. It disturbed him. Well, disturbed and intrigued. Airlock would be lying if he said it didn’t fascinate him.

After following the rambling foreman down the mineshaft for many minutes, Broadcast stopped in his tracks.   
‘This oughta be good.’ Airlock thought. He   
watched Broadcast’s recording light flicker off.

“Can you bring me a few miners?” Broadcast asked. “You best tempered ones, I’d like to interview them.”

“I-I…” The foreman hesitated, looking askance. “They’re working, I’d hate to slow down progress.”

This set the minicon off.  
“Are you telling me that as head of the facility, you don’t have any authority over your employees? Is that not your job?” Broadcast hissed, eyes narrowing as he stepped forward. “And do you think the senate is working towards progress right now? Why do you think we’re here?”

The foreman wilted. Despite how he towered over Broadcast, he seemed so much smaller than him.

“Sorry, I’ll be right back.” 

Without another word, he rushed to find some eligible volunteers. The moment he left, Broadcast’s shoulders slumped, and he released his tense posture.

“I hate doing that.” He muttered. Airlock didn’t believe him. The rush he saw when he finally got to snap at somebody was unmistakable. It was the look of somebody who was constantly under somebody’s thumb, and got a high from exercising that same power over others. Mechs like that, you needed to watch out for. But still, when he grumbled to himself, Airlock read genuine guilt in his voice and the way his wings drooped. He did feel bad about it, at least afterwards, he could tell.

But again, he couldn’t shake this feeling of fascination with the minicon. How much bite and bark the projector had was Interesting. Feral in an odd way almost. He wanted to know where that would lead.

“They’re waiting for you over there, sir.” The foreman ducked his head and the emissary, once again, straightened his back, lifted his chin, and walked haughtily over with his hands behind his back.

“You two, please come with me.” He pointed to a random pair of employees in the lineup, and led them into the foreman’s office. “What are your names?”

“I’m Carbon, he’s Treads.” The taller of the two jerked a thumb at the other mech. They were both covered in grit and Treads was withdrawn from the get go.The minicon nodded and opened a hologram. He wrote down their names, reserving a file for their interview.

“Uhh… Did we do something wrong?” The smaller of the miners frowned. 

“Not at all.” Broadcast gave a cordial smile, closing the hologram. “I’m just collecting a survey. I’d like to know what you think of the senate.”

It was a loaded question. Standing beside them, Airlock could see how nervous the shorter miner, Treads, was getting as he thought over his answer. He fidgeted with his servos and averted his eyes. Clearly, he had no good things to say about them. 

“I don’t know,” Carbon scoffed. “I’ll tell ya when anything they do starts affecting us in a good way.”

Airlock stifled a snicker. Broadcast shot him a glare and he cleared his throat, regaining composure.

“Do you have anything positive to say about the senate,” Broadcast sighed. “Or the recently proposed ‘Proteus’ Promise’?”

“Hell no,” Treads looked shocked as he spoke up. “It’s a trap if we ever heard one.”

Broadcast groaned, shutting off the recording and deleting the footage. “Look, fellas, I know. Okay? I know.” He rubbed his temple. “But my job is to get footage of smiling faces and miners saying ‘oh Proteus? He’s our favorite’. What will it take? We have money.”

“Get slagged.” Treads stood up and made his way to the door. “You couldn’t give me Iacon to do that.”

“What about you?” Broadcast sighed, looking over at Carbon. He seemed to be thinking it over.

“What can you offer?”

“A hundred shanix?”

“Hundred fifty and it's a deal.”

Carbon gave a good interview. He was almost convincing in saying that he approved wholeheartedly of the senate. Broadcast slid the money over to him.

“Thank you Carbon,” Broadcast smiled. “You’re a hell of an actor. When the senate falls, take up performing arts.” 

Carbon gave a half smile and a thoughtful chuff of laugher. “Huh, know what, maybe I will.”

“Airlock, can you bring in the next miner?” Broadcast fiddled with the desk tidy next to him.

“Sure,” Airlock stepped forward. “One second.”

Broadcast watched as his bodyguard left the small office, and was in moments replaced by a large purple and yellow miner.

“Hello, please take a seat.” Broadcast scooted in his seat, preparing a new interview file. He narrowed his eyes at the mech as he locked the door behind him. “Unlock that door, please.”

“You don’t order me around, glitch.” The massive miner snarled down to the minicon.

“Excuse me?” Broadcast scowled, standing up indignantly.  
“I am a representative of your government and you will show me the basic respec- AAUGH!”

Broadcast gave a guttural screech. The miner backhanded him and he was seeing stars. He held his face and was about to deliver a series of threats and curses before he was lifted by his wing. All that came out were choked gasps and the quickly dying beginnings of screams.

“I ain’t gotta show you slag, you spineless piece of scrap.” 

With that he crushed the emissary's wing in his servo, earning an agonized shriek. The minicon had a vice grip on his servo, thrashing and kicking in panic with digitigrade legs. A picture of an animal in a trap.

 

Airlock had gotten an odd feeling from the mech that shoved past him into the office. He seemed… a little too eager for an interview. However, when he went to open the door, it shoved shut and there was the click of a lock. Airlock immediately knew something was wrong. There was yelling, and he began to slam his shoulder into the door, calling out Broadcast’s name. 

The surrounding miners watched on in discomfort, exchanging bewildered and worried glances. Finally there was screaming, and Airlock reared back, and kicked the door with all his torque behind it. It flew open, swinging on its hinges. Airlock dove into action, delivering a swift and powerful kick to the miner’s nose. It set him off his balance and he dropped the Minicon.

“Get him OUT OF HERE!” Broadcast screamed, his voice raspy and bursting with rage.  
Airlock didn’t need to be told twice. Smaller than the miner as he was, he wrestled him successfully out of the office. Broadcast tore past him and faced the miner, now out in the open.

“Your superiors will hear about this!” The minicon screeched, holding the junction above his shoulder where his wing met his back. The miner only smirked at him, made an unsavory gesture with his hand, and walked away. The others watched him in awe, and back to the minicon who snarled through his teeth, slamming the office door behind him.

Broadcast was seething. Humiliation, pain, anger, indignation, Airlock could imagine it was all boiling within him like some sort of magma.  
“If I was any fucking bigger I’d have slit his throat.” The minicon snarled, his fist thundering on the desk. “I’d have killed that bastard.”

“Broadcast, are you ok?” Airlock sat on the desk beside him. He understood that he was angry, and that getting your wing crushed hurts, but he still didn’t like to hear the mech talk like this.

“I’m fucking fine. But I swear to Primus myself if that piece of slag ever crosses my path alone, I’m taking him out.” Broadcast muttered into his hand.

“Gonna kick his shin till he falls down?” Airlock chuckled. Broadcast lifted his head. His face had no humor on it.

“He’ll fall down faster if I shoot him in the neck.” The minicon seemed to catch himself. “I’m kidding, quit looking at me like that.”

Airlock laughed, awkward and quickly frowned behind his blastmask as he turned his back.  
“I’m gonna uh… step outside and keep watch.”

There was a slight knock, and the door peeked open. Both the flyers bolted to their feet. Broadcasts movement was sluggish and stiff in pain. Airlock leapt up to his pedes so fast he hit his shin on the desk. Internally both of them were groaning in pain.

“Is this a bad time?” The mech murmured.

Broadcast shot a look at Airlock, as if to say ‘is he fucking serious?’.

“I wanted to apologize for Impactor.”

“So that’s his name.”

“He’s not usually so aggressive, we went out and he was drinking...” He stepped into the office. He was a large mech as well, but with a youthful face and the way he carried himself was that of a young bot. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live.” Broadcast’s forehead found itself in his hand as he sat back down. He began to fiddle with the desk tidy adjacent to him once more. He flicked the tiny drawer open. Closed. Open. Closed. “Who are you?”

“My name is Megatron.” He said, approaching and taking a seat across from Broadcast. “I’m afraid I don’t have much praise for the Senate, but I would like you to hear me out anyways.”

“You want to criticize the senate… On footage going to the senate?” Broadcast smiled dryly and scoffed as Megatron gave an earnest nod. “Alright, your funeral.” He turned to Airlock, “Can you run and tell the foreman we’re gonna be leaving soon? Thank him for the hospitality, and tell him we’re fining him for the damage.”

“And leave you alone? With him?” Airlock pointed an accusing finger at Megatron.

“Did I stutter, Airlock?”  
He projected a hologram and set a new file as Airlock rolled his eyes, exhaled hard, and left.  
“Whenever you’re ready.”

He must have been ready for this his entire life, because the speech he delivered was nothing short of eloquent. Sure he stumbled over his words once or twice, everybody does, but he knew what he was talking about. He knew exactly the kind of change he wanted to see in the government, how they’d bring this change, and what it would cost. When he was finished, Broadcast was still entranced.  
The emissary blinked quickly and shut off the still rolling recording.

“That was… wow.” Broadcast sighed. He wanted to say beautiful. He wanted to say utopian.”Megatron, you’re… I don’t know, a genius. You have excellent points and excellent solutions. I really do hope they come to fruition.”

“I sense a but.” Megatron murmured. The minicon nodded in resignation.

“I’ve been reading your poetry. Your words are so provocative, they get people thinking. They got me thinking. The senate fears that more than anything.” Broadcast said. “Fear can cause beasts like them to lash out. I don’t know, I just think the world would be suffering the greatest loss if it were to lose this.”

“Thank you, I....” Megatron adjusted himself in his seat. “I took into account that the senate may come for me if I made these beliefs public, but this is a cause I’m willing to die for.”

“I see,” Broadcast smiled up at him. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. Here.”  
The minicon began to write.  
“My personal frequency. Tell me anything I can do to help this movement. You have supporters in high places, Megatron.”

“I appreciate that sir.”

“Please, call me Broadcast.”

“Can I send you a copy of my latest work?” Megatron asked. Broadcast was a bit surprised.

“Yes, please do.” He smiled, but it was quickly dropped as a muffled yell rang out.

There was a commotion outside. They rushed to see Impactor and Airlock meters away from each other, spitting curses and threats. The energon on their frames and speckled across the floor told the other two that they’d already been well into their tussle.

“Alright you two, break it up!” The minicon barked.

“Leaving so soon, ya little freak!?” 

Impactor stormed up behind Airlock. The flyer was clutching his face. No, covering it. 

“Impactor stop it.”

Megatronus shoved him back by his chest. The two began to argue amongst themselves while the other miners who had been spectating the fight watched on with almost horrified or disgusted looks. Every optic seemed to be on a certain bloodied flier as it bristled and turned away from Impactor.

Airlock walked past Broadcast, slamming the office door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun one to write, edit, and stress over getting right. Words will never work when I need them too


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IM RADIOACTIVE  
> RADIOACTIVE

The door slam was like a crack of thunder. Broadcast winced physically and after a pause, went after his bodyguard. He pushed the door open with a shove, Airlocks earlier kick must’ve messed up the alignment, and looked around. It wasn’t hard to find the taller Flier digging through a storage cabinet. 

“Airlock I don’t know what happened out there but that miner will be facing consequences for his acti-“   
The projector faltered at the sight of energon on the cabinet door handles. He was hurt. Airlock, dumbass extraordinaire, was bleeding from fighting a miner easily 2x his size.   
Broadcast mentally added another source to a file in his system titled-‘proof Head of Security, designation:Airlock, is an idiot’-before stepping towards said idiot.

“Airlock, you’re bleeding.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” The sarcasm made Broadcast grunt in frustration as he rolled his optics.  
“Airlock-“  
“-No worries though! I’m fine Bossyboots. It’s just a little split lip. If anything we should worry about that wing of yours.”

He tilted his wings up as Broadcast walked over. Shielding his face from the Projectors view. He pulled out a pair of goggles from under a stack of dusty datapads and savored in the victory for a moment. 

“Why don’t you just go handle the situation with the foreman? I’ll catch up”  
“Airlock turn around this instant.” 

Broadcasts voice was grim and commanding. Very much akin to that of how Proteus sounded. It made Airlock stiffen at how cold it was. He pulled on the goggles after dusting them off and grabbed an old cloth of some kind from the drawer. It was probably used to clean said goggles but he didn’t care. He tied it around his face and spun around to face Broadcast.

“Here I am, as requested.” 

His voice was chipper again suddenly. It felt like somebody had splashed Broadcast with water. He reeled for a moment at the mechs range of emotion and seemingly random changes. Deep down,well, not that dee, he wondered if Airlock was sane.

“Airlock, what happened out there while I was in here? One moment it’s calm and the next you’re in a fist-fight with someone twice your size! You couldn’t have possibly thought you’d win. That was irresponsible, dangerous, and absolutely idiotic!” He stomped his foot as he pointed at airlocks chest.  
“I don’t know how you did things in the Elite Guard Cadet Corp-But if you pull a stunt like that again you’ll be-“

Broadcast cut off as Energon dripped on the fingers jabbing Airlocks chest. In his anger, he had forgotten the part of the reckless fight where Airlock had been hurt. He felt a moment of full blown shame as he looked up. The taller flier was quiet, looking down at him silently.

“I’ll be what Bossyboots?”  
“Airlock” his voice faltered as he pulled his servo away.  
“Yeah?”  
“How bad did he hit you?”  
He reached up and Airlock grabbed his wrist instantly. The hold was stronger than Broadcast expected but it didn’t stop him.  
“Airlock let go.”  
“Can we not have this argument here? Please?”

Broadcast nodded and pulled away. Surprised to hear the other mech ask so politely. In fact, he almost sounded paranoid. As if he was worried others were watching. Airlock brushed past the Emissary and tried to open the door. It got stuck. He silently stepped back cracked his neck and leapt at the door. It crashed to the ground, fully broken off the fame with Airlock standing on it. He dusted off his servos and continued on like it was normal while Broadcast was left agape and then stumbling to catch up. Scolding Airlock as they walked and squawking in protest when the flier shrugged it off.  
At the shuttle docks it was no different. Airlock stood on the platform as Broadcast went on the tirade of the century. The Foreman was leaning backwards as the minicon talked about worker conduct and the consequences of their actions. Airlock snickered despite his stinging face. That Impactor guy knew where to hit, that was for sure. He looked forward as Broadcast walked over.

“Senator Proteus will hear about this. I expect a fully written debriefing on tonight’s events from you. And I mean detailed. Not any of your jock talk and shrugging off of any minute details. Understood?”

Broadcast had his servos behind his back as he regally stood there. Composed and cool. Airlock mimicked his posture and took on a snobby, higher class voice.

“Yes quite indeed sire. Your request hath been understood and I politely wish to shove a pickaxe up that Brutish foreman’s rearguards.”  
He fluttered his optics behind the goggles and put the back of his right servo under his chin. 

For a few seconds Broadcast stared at him, the optic bridges of his visor raised.   
And then his shoulders shook as he shook his head with a resigned chuckle.  
They stood in a comfortable silence as the shuttle landed and they stepped aboard. Once again entirely alone. The tone had changed since their arrival however. Broadcast sat down gingerly in a seat and kept pressure off his damaged wing. Airlock sat down across from the minicon and stretched his legs and arms out.

“What a day.”  
“Tsk, That is why I want a detailed report. Don’t summarize it like that.” BC pinched the bridge of his nose  
“We have to do detailed reports for injuries too. The senate will cover it but it needs the proper paperwork.”  
“Red tape much?”  
“Airlock What happened? What’s with the whole-“  
“Miners chique I’m callin it.”  
“Whatever.”  
“I’m fine.”  
“Take it off.” Broadcast hesitated for a moment and stood. “Please? I don’t bite”  
“I do.”  
Broadcast stepped over to Airlock till he stood over his outstretched legs. His hands on his hips as he leaned forwards.  
“Stop being a sparkling about it-“ he managed to pull the cloth off easily and pulled the goggles up out of Airlocks face so he could access the damage. Not at all prepared for what lay underneath. Nobody could’ve been.

Broadcast stumbled back a step. Visor locked on Airlocks face in sheer horror. Horror and, deep down, an instant twisted fascination.   
“Welcome to the Freakshow Emissary.”  
“Primus I wasn’t hallucinating...”

Broadcast blinked hard In disbelief, and in mild discomfort.  
Airlocks optics caged Hell within them in brilliant nuclear pink colors. Radiated energon. His face was cut up both from the fight and a previous injury. Either way, it was a sight to behold.

“Airlock y-your optics…”  
“Don’t say it. Just give me the goggles back” he reached to grab them.  
“No! I mean, no Airlock. I don’t mind.”  
“Y’know, I almost believed that.”  
“Airlock I’m telling the truth.”

Airlock paused. Obviously trying to tell if he wasn’t or not. “You don’t?”  
“No. I don’t.” Broadcast carefully stepped back closer to the mech. “Can I see? Please?”  
He put a servo under Airlocks chin and lifted it. Barely noticing one of airlocks servos grabbing his other and squeezing it. Insecurity. That was a first. Airlock was all bravado and confidence and now he seemed almost scared. It made Broadcasts spark ache.

“What? Relishing in my corpse like looks?”  
“I think they are rather beautiful. In a morbid way”  
“Aw Bossyboots you think I’m pretty?”  
“I-no!” Broadcast sputtered and put a servo over the mechs almost hypnotic optics.  
“For a senate Messenger, you suck at lying.”  
“You’ve… mentioned it.”

Airlock smiled. Fumbling a little due to lack of vision, but he found what he was looking for. He pulled Broadcast closer till the mech was sitting in his lap. A servo pulled Broadcasts hand away and held it.  
“I think you’re pretty too Bossyboots. Stick up your tailpipe and all.”  
Broadcast snorted out a laugh. Not wanting to admit the compliment did affect him. He felt warm. Fuzzy. Maybe Airlock had a point. Maybe there was merit to enjoying little things. And maybe, just maybe, imperfection wasn’t so bad.


End file.
